I don't speak your language but please keep on talking…
by ollia
Summary: In the capital of Land of Fire Mito meets a stranger on the street. She doesn't understand a single word he's saying, but she just wants to keep listening.


**AN:** This fic is inspired by the first ever song-crush of my little girl. The song is "Je ne parle pas français" by Namika and it's an adorable piece about a girl encountering a stranger in Paris, and despite not knowing any French, getting infatuated with him. It's very sweet and poetic and I totally recommend googling (and translating, as the song is actually in German) the lyrics, as my fic is basically using the entire songtext as a very elaborate prompt. It was so much fun writing it.

For my Toninchen.

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Mito stopped. She didn't know where should she go. How embarrassing – it seemed that she got lost in that huge, buzzing city. Daimyo's capital was so different from Uzushio and maybe she shouldn't have acted so cocky and insisted on going exploring on her own.

City was full of people, its streets a chaotic maze, buildings so high that they were obscuring all the landmarks. And now, when the clans from the entire Land of Fire and surrounding areas were summoned to convene with the leaders of newly founded ninja village, the city was bursting at its seams. The Village Hidden in the Leaves – it still sounded wrong to Mito's ears to name the village after a mundane word in the stead of a clan's name.

So there she was – standing in the middle of a busy shopping street and the streams of people were flowing around her. Mito's head was spinning.

A bright voice from the side tore her out of her reverie. She turned – a young man was looking at her attentively. He repeated the same phrase with a broad smile on his face.

All that Mito could get with her nonexistent knowledge of the language of the Land of Fire was that the sentence started with a common greeting. Whatever has followed afterwards – she had no idea.

"I'm sorry," Mito smiled politely. "I don't speak your language." She unfolded hands to her sides and shook her head. That should get the message through.

But the man didn't get discouraged. He spoke, what seemed to Mito, two sentences. The second was a question. Most probably…

She smiled and shook her head again. The man laughed and responded with even more words in that strange, whispering dialect that, the more Mito was listening to it, the more pleasant it sounded to her ears.

Whatever he was saying, it seemed to be very conversational. He pointed to the sky and then made a broad gesture encompassing the cityscape.

"Yes, the weather today is very beautiful indeed. Perfect for sightseeing," answered Mito chuckling. She had no idea what did he really say, but it was fun to play this little guessing game.

The stranger positively grinned. He had so nice teeth, so white in contrast with his brown skin. He said something again. Mito only shook her head helplessly – she really had no idea this time.

He tried again, bowing a little and looking into her face with intent.

"I'm sorry. I don't understand you…"

The man rubbed the back of his head in exasperation. Then he almost jumped up with excitement as he apparently got an idea. He plunged his hands into his pockets searching for something. He looked so comically and Mito had to laugh. The search was getting more and more frantic. Finally, as in desperation, the man turned back away from her. But before she could process this strange behavior, he was facing her again, presenting her triumphantly with a small stick.

"Where did you get it from?" Mito knitted her brows. No way he was carrying a stick in his pocket. What was he, a boy or what?

The man crouched down and started to draw something on the ground. Mito focused. It looked like some characters, but the ground was trodden hard and his writing was illegible.

"It's not working," she informed him gently.

He looked up at her and nodded confirming her words. He looked so utterly broken and miserable that Mito didn't know whether to laugh or to cry.

"Don't worry," she offered but didn't manage to finish as the man jumped up on his feet.

He rolled up his left sleeve and with the sharp end of the stick started to write on his own forearm. The stick was leaving white scratchmarks on his brown skin.

No, he wasn't writing – he was drawing. Two halfmoons and two ovals – each sitting on top of a halfmoon. The three circles crossed with a line. And apparently that was it, as the stranger lowered the stick and looked at her expectantly.

"I… I still don't understand…" Mito focused on the riddle in from of her. "I don't know what it is supposed to be…"

The man folded his hands mimicking the gesture of holding something round and raised his joined palms to his mouth, as if drinking. Then he grinned and pointed repeatedly between her and himself.

"Aaaah!" exclaimed Mito. "Tea! You're asking me if I will go to the teahouse with you!?"

The man smiled and confirmed. '_Hai_' was one of few words that Mito could recognize.

"Yes," she answered. "_Hai_," she repeated in the language of the Land of Fire.

The man beamed at her. He bowed ever so slightly and with a broad, sweeping gesture encouraged her to move in the pointed direction.

He navigated easily between the people, always mindful of whether she was keeping up. Not that Mito, being a kunoichi, wouldn't have managed on her own. But he couldn't know it and it was so nice. Charming even.

The teahouse was just off the main street, that made Mito relieved as she was having some second thoughts. In worse case she could for sure defend herself, but any kind of fighting had been most strictly prohibited during the summit. And it really wouldn't do to have the granddaughter of Uzushio's head to be caught involved in some brawl.

The stranger kept talking and Mito was listening. The melody of his language was like a gentle stream, like wind between the leaves. She was tempted to just close her eyes and listen.

She managed to get the word 'daimyo' and the names of couple of most prominent clans.

"Yes, there sure are plenty of people for the summit in the city those days," she said. "I hope it's not very inconvenient for the citizens like yourself. But soon it will be over and the life will go back to normal, I hope."

He answered something but from it she didn't get even a single word. Unperturbed, he continued, words falling easily off his lips.

"I so much wish that I could understand you," said Mito more to herself than to the stranger.

The serving girl brought their tea. And additionally, two plates with small wagashi. When they had entered, the man had led her to the counter so she could choose the sweets. She couldn't decide back then, torn between two options. The man placed their order so she didn't really know what would she be getting in the end.

They ended up served both of her favourites – one next to her plate, the other - next to his.

Mito tasted the tea. "Exquisite," she commended. "Quite different from that we have at home."

He answered and this time she was sure that he said something along the lines of: 'I'm glad that you like it.' Then he gestured at wagashi.

"Of course," Mito agreed. "I'm very much looking forward to it." She gingerly picked up her piece and took a bite. "Delicious," she said. "And how is yours?"

The man ate one of the small balls of mochi and said what must have been a praise as well. Then he gently pushed his plate toward her and gesticulated between the remaining pieces and Mito.

"No, those are yours," she opposed and waved her hand before herself only to be answered with more dramatic gesturing. Mito wavered. She really, really wanted to try that other style of wagashi as well. They didn't have anything of this sort back in Uzushio.

Next round of hand-waving had her surrender.

"Alright. But only if you try mine," she stated firmly and pushed her plate towards him.

He grinned and nodded.

Mito picked up one of the balls and put it into her mouth. So good. So, so good.

He posed a question and at this point it was obvious what it was that he had asked.

"Yes," said Mito. "Excellent. Absolutely delicious." She said emphasizing her conviction.

She pushed her plate again towards him only to realize in horror that she was offering him an already bitten piece of food. Mito flushed crimson – really, where did her manners go? She was making an uncultured barbarian out of herself. The man looked confused by her sudden embarrassment.

_'__Ah, to hell with etiquette. No one knows me here. I can afford this tiny bit of freedom, don't I? What's wrong with sharing some food in the end?_' thought Mito and gestured at wagashi.

The man laughed, pierced the sweet with a pick, took a small bite and returned the plate to her.

He said a word and Mito decided she had just learned a word for 'great' in the language of the Land of Fire. It was '_subarashi_'.

When she put the remaining part of wagashi into her mouth she had this fleeing notion that it tasted somehow differently than before. Like herbs and spices and fresh, growing plants, and like yet something else she couldn't really put her finger on.

The man kept talking. He was telling her some story. Mito propped her chin on her palm and listened. She was soaking up his words, the sound of his voice.

He talked. And talked. And talked. His story was full of excitement at the beginning. Then, some sad notes sneaked in. And then more of them. At some point, his voice shook and the next couple of sentences he spoke through clenched throat. Then he paused and the following phrase he uttered with difficulty. Then he shook his head and continued as if passing over some painful topic.

"That bad thing," Mito interrupted. "It's in the past, isn't it? In the past?" she repeated gesturing behind herself. "It's already gone?" She raised her eyebrows, searched the eye contact and made sure to put inflection into her voice to make it clear it was a question.

"_Hai_," he confirmed and sent her a reassuring smile. He spoke a word and with an exaggerated sad expression on his face made the same gesture to the back that she had done.

Then he straightened both of his arms forward saying something with determination and optimism. He placed his palms on the table firmly as if to stress the finality of his statement.

"I see," said Mito. "I see, that you are a really strong person. Whatever bad happened to you, you have overcome it and you're looking forward, into the future. You have the hope and you have the courage to make your life better. I think it's wonderful."

Rays of sun found their way into Mito's eyes and she had to squint. She looked through the window – the sun moved on the sky and was already setting.

The man turned as well, said something and pointed at the sun drawing a semicircular line in the air.

"Yes," acknowledged Mito. "It's evening already. I can't believe it myself. Where did all that time go? It feels as if we've just came here a couple of minutes ago…"

The man's eyes lightened up as with a sudden idea and he pointed to the setting sun and then to Mito hair, saying something in this gentle, whispering speech of his.

"My hair? My hair is like setting sun?" Mito giggled.

The man set his hands on the table and wiggled fingers frantically up.

Mito knitted her brows, but when he provided the words to go with the riddle, she managed to catch a familiar sound. "Fire?" she guessed. "_Hi_?" she tried pronouncing one of those very few words she knew. "My hair is like fire?" Subconsciously she tugged a loose strand behind her ear.

The man confirmed enthusiastically and folded his hands together in a sign of admiration.

"Well, I guess so," answered Mito. "But where I come from, it's nothing that extraordinary. We all look like this… Other things would be considered exotic though…" She glimpsed at his hand lying across the table and she put her own next to it. "For example, at our place, that would be unusual." She pointed repeatedly between her and his arm.

The man laughed and nodded. The difference of their skin tones was striking when directly compared – hers all milky white, his – brown like bark of a young tree.

The man pointed to her eyes and with his other hand made a waving, undulating motion.

"Sea? My eyes are like sea?" Mito chuckled. "You know, this is the most kitschy and cliché compliment that I have ever heard. But thank you. You don't have that much experience with the ladies, don't you?" she mused and her lips stretched on their own into a smile. "You're somehow so charming, you know?"

"My lady!" A familiar voice had Mito turn her head abruptly. "There you are! We've been looking everywhere for you!" Her handmaiden was standing right behind her, glaring in disapproval at the man, their tea, the empty plates between them and their hands lying much too close to one another to be appropriate.

"I'm sorry, Nami, it seems I just lost the sense of time a little bit…"

"My lady, we should immediately go," Nami stated sternly and dug into her pouch. "Just how much has it all costed?"

The man jumped up on his feet and produced a string of distraught, apologetic words, accompanied with a lot of bowing and hand-pressing to the chest. Mito suppressed the urge to laugh. Nami wouldn't find it either funny nor proper.

The handmaiden placed a coin on the table and gripped Mito's elbow.

The man waved his hands in protest.

"Nami, wait!" Mito intercepted the coin. "He says he invited me so he will pay for me." Mito glimpsed at the man – he nodded in confirmation and in unison they turned their heads towards Nami, waiting for her response.

The handmaiden furrowed her brows. "Just… How do you understand what he is saying, my lady? You don't speak the language of the Land of Fire…"

Mito hesitated. "I… I don't know.. I just knew what he wanted to say."

"Fine. As you wish. But now we're going."

Mito exchange a mischievous grin with the man to celebrate the little success they've just shared.

"Thank you for the invitation. I had such a great time," said Mito bowing. "Goodbye, and all the best to you for your future." She added placing her hand lightly over her heart.

The man stood upright and bowed deeply, uttering some polite words. He remained bowed until Mito left – she could see it because in the door she threw one more glimpse back at him.

She smiled to herself, and directed her thoughts to the grand meeting with clan and village leaders she was supposed to attend. The very important negotiations will be held tomorrow. Negotiations that will decide the fates of many people.

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AN: Thank you for reading and please let me know what you think!


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